Today I’m going to talk about my trip to the city of AR not Beijing. For those not well-versed with what AR is, it is the city that became famous for two, or three, wrong reasons. First, it is famous for producing Hunknite aka Bongonite aka Tanzianite that’s made some neighbouring and distant countries richer than it’s made us. Hunknite is the type of precious metal that is found only in our hunk the world over.
Secondly, AR is the capital city of tonnes of connected criminals who sell the wildlife and minerals of our hunk to Asia.
Recently, AR added another feather in its cap becoming the first city to receive the lady number one just like Mr. Presidenza himself. Thus, mama Sal Jake Kiquette is the subject and source of all this stuff I’m writing today. Call Sal a co-president if you may. Don’t worry. She doesn't read such hard stuff. I’m happy to be in AR as this happened. Luckily, I wasn't accompanied by my lioness. She’d not allow me to write about this political femme fatale.
After doing my monkey biz in AR, I went to the pub to swallow as usual. No sooner had I arrived in the pub than tipplers recognized me! They started attacking me with offers of Kanywaji. Firstly, I thought they’re doing so thanks to my Bongo’s stardom aka ustaa uchwara. They started telling a this-is-now-too-much-power-hunger story about how the whole city was shocked to see high-rank military men and other bigwigs in the upper echelons of power thronging at the airport to acclaim the first woman. Slowly, I started anticipating what was behind all those offers of kanywaji. One bibber did not mince words. He said, “Bro, we need your support and help. You've the wherewithal.”
I asked him, “What support or help do you want from me?” He replied, “Please make sure this sacrilegious act of squandering our dosh by the wives of the biggies features high in next dictum.” Another imbiber chipped in, “Yes, we’re tired of being told: the hunk’s debt is swelling while a few power winos senselessly trifle our taxes. This is impunity, total impurity.”
Another one chimed, “Hey man, don’t you know that king’s dog is the king of dogs!” Before even explaining his Swahili recapitulation, another imbiber weighed in, “This is corruption. King’s goat also should be the king of goats? King’s everything is the king of everything. This way we can’t forge ahead in any meaningful direction. Why don’t you call it daylight thuggery? Does it mean the guy promised better life for all to mean all of them not all of us?”
Thence, I started realizing why kanywaji was coming my way like missiles. In fact, bibbers wanted me to address their grievances especially power abuses that are slowly being legalized. It is no longer against the law for members of the first family to be treated just like presidents. They freely and discretionary spend paupers’ taxes as please and nobody raises eye brawls! “Anyways, guys the in-thing currently is “it is our turn to eat the hunk’s cake. Those feeling jealousy should go hang. The saying has it.” One fyatu said as he sipped from his bottle.
You know what. I nosed out that all imbibers are fearless, fyatu and kamikaze. They fear nobody except going without kanywaji. They told me that the other day they saw the high and mighty giving their views to the constitutional commission chaired by Mr. Jose Waliobora. First of all, they condemned the act of discriminating against the imbibers. For them imbibers are imbibers regardless how big or mighty some are. Treat ‘em equally. The rationale behind such assertion is: those given preferential treatment in airing their views, the same may apply by entrenching their views in the constitution and ignoring those of the others. So, their views may make the coming constitution. So too,
Dibbers said that Pooh-Bahs like Ben Willy McKappa don’t know their problems, needs and feelings. They regard those guys just like any other let down on the top. Guess what. I didn't know that imbibers still remember Kiwila saga. They mentioned it as if it happened yesterday!
What’s more, imbibers are saying openly that the ulaji bestowed upon Mr. Presidenza is becoming a family matter. They’re saying that the hunk has many presidenzas the man himself, his wife and kids and his courtiers. They see no border between our hunk and gulf’s sultanates. This is why they want the coming constitution to strictly stipulate that the power of the head of the hunk should neither be raped nor misused by any earthling under and above the Sun.
AR’s imbibers became more ballistic than any time when they saw some high-rank military men congregating to acclaim the first woman. To them this was an insult. They asked why it was a criminal offence for one soldier to take a snap with their MP but the same wasn't the case when military men acclaimed the first woman who isn't anybody’s MP except her stomach. One juicer said, “Mchonga saw all this when he said: Prezzo shouldn't be advised by his wife!”
The way they were asking me was as if I were the husband of that first woman. I simply owned up by just defining corruption as: abuse of power by gaining money, respect, fame, favour, acting unethically and whatnot. This being the situation, indeed we need a new constitution of our own making not this make believe we see. Today’s wisdom is, “The measure of a man is what he does with power.” Plato 423 BC – 347 BC.
Source: This Day Jan. 28-2 Feb.,, 2013.